


World records and recordings

by Alphawave



Series: The universe sings [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Humor, Smut, Spoiler alert Harold's the kinky one, Which is surprising because I thought it was the other way around before writing this fic, Why have regular smut when you can ALSO make jokes at the expense of your characters?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Harold Winston is sexually frustrated, but Siebren isn't interested in sex. Or at least, that's what Harold thinks, until he catches Siebren masturbating in his room.





	World records and recordings

**Author's Note:**

> _I've now got a [Sigrold discord server](https://discord.gg/mvvJ5kp). If you guys wanna see me gush over Sigma and Harold, come join! We're a super welcoming bunch over there from all over the globe. _

World Records and recordings

It’s taken Harold a while to acknowledge the possibility that Dr. Siebren de Kuiper may not hold any sexual interest in him. To be fair, that shouldn’t surprise him. As far as he knows, Harold is Siebren’s first serious relationship in a long, _long _time. And since they’ve been together, Siebren has given no indication he’s interested in sex. No passing comment, no double entendre, no sultry words or secretive wink or lingering touch. Nothing.

Harold on the other hand is sexually interested in Siebren. Very interested, if interest is measured by the amount and intensity of wet dreams and lewd fantasies a single man can have. He’s not sure when his feelings had shifted from a warm, unconditional love to this overwhelming lust. All he knows is that he’s hyper aware of every little move Siebren makes now. He sees every lick of the lips, every flutter of the eyes, and his imagination runs wild, giving him a glimpse into an alternate reality where Siebren kisses him hotly in the mouth and bends him over a table and takes him then and there, for all of the Horizon staff to see.

Harold’s lost count of the amount of times he’s let the images fly before his eyes when he’s alone in bed. He’d stroke himself off, whimpering silently to the dust in the air, imagining all the ways Siebren can have him. Every time he finishes, he’s sated but unsatisfied. Every morning he stares at Siebren’s door, just opposite his bedroom, and lets out a sigh.

It’s not like Harold beats around the bush, oh no, he makes his intentions very clear. He’s hinted many times in front of Siebren what his preferences are. He did his fair share of nudges and winks, and when that didn’t work, he opted for a more direct approach. 

In hindsight, lying naked on Siebren’s bed in a provocative pose was probably not his greatest decision. It’s almost an hour when Siebren finally arrives and once he realizes that Harold is there, naked and wanting, he just stares at him for a few seconds, eyes wide. Harold tries to smile seductively even as his nerves threaten to get the better of him, but Siebren does not say a thing. Siebren walks silently up to the bed, places his hands on Harold’s shoulders, kisses him gently on the forehead, and proceeds to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m sorry, Harold,” he says apologetically the next morning. He's still wearing yesterday's clothes, his bedhead making him look wild and gorgeous. “I do love you, do not be mistaken, it’s just…better that we don’t do this kind of thing. It’ll only ruin our relationship.”

Harold frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you or your feelings.” He holds Harold close and rubs his back in a soothing manner, trailing kisses down Harold's chin. It’s Siebren's way of apologizing.

And it’s fine, Harold tells himself later that day. It’s fine that Siebren’s not attracted to him whatsoever. It’s totally fine that he’s the only one who masturbates to the thought of Siebren’s dick, big and red and full of veins, pressing into the cleft of his ass, sweet nothings whispered into his ear. It's definitely fine that he can get himself hard if he so much as thinks about Siebren for too long.

Oh, who is he kidding? It’s absolutely NOT fine. They need to discuss this properly. They need to. He wants to make his relationship with Siebren work. 

For all intents and purposes, it is a rather typical day on Horizon One lunar base. Harold spends half the morning chasing after Specimen 28, and the other half of the morning doing the prep work for his latest experiment. In the afternoon he has lunch, chats with the other Horizon staff, and goes about his day.

He doesn’t see Siebren at all today, which is a bit of a relief. He needs the distraction away from him. After that fiasco, things have been more than a little awkward between the two of them. Siebren doesn’t smile easily at him, an almost distant expression upon his face whenever they make eye contact. Every time Harold tries to broach the topic of sex, Siebren changes the subject or just remains unusually quiet, or even just leave the room altogether. Harold can't account this for naïve innocence or embarrassment. Siebren's avoiding him.

Harold’s frustrated, but he refuses to be the one to start this conversation. Maybe he's being stubborn, but Siebren knows how he feels. He's supposed to be smart.

Harold stares at the open door to his lab and sighs. He almost expects Siebren to come in any moment now, but he's nowhere to be seen. 

_He'll have to talk to me sooner or later, _Harold tells himself as he gets back into his work._ He can't avoid me all day._

But then the hours tick on by and Harold is still alone. Dinner comes and goes and Siebren is still nowhere to be seen. It's not just Harold who notices his absence. Even the other scientists are concerned. 

“It’s your job to find him,” Yoshida says. Today is their day to do the dishes. They’re the slowest dish washer on Horizon One, but they’re also the most thorough. No one ever finds a dirty spot on their cutlery when Yoshida does the washing.

Harold sighs. “Do I have to?”

“You’re the boyfriend,” Nevsky smirks. “Or is there trouble in paradise?”

It still sounds so weird hearing the word ‘boyfriend’ to describe himself. He never thought he’d be a boyfriend to anyone, let alone to be the boyfriend of a Dutch astrophysicist with horrific eating habits and a strange aversion to footwear. Then again, he never thought he’d be taking care of genetically enhanced gorillas on the moon. “Nothing a small chat cannot fix,” he smiles tersely.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?” Nevsky takes out a small, unopened bottle of lube from their lab coat. Harold’s eyes widen as he quickly snatches it away from Nevsky’s grasp, stuffing it into his own pockets.

His cheeks are crimson. Yoshida cackles loudly. The shit-eating grin Nevsky gives him is enough to make his stomach turn. “P-please tell me you didn’t snoop my room to get this.”

“It’s your fault for bringing Hammond in. He escaped his cage once again, and when we finally found him, he was chewing on the cap.” Nevsky smirks before adding, “I won’t report this to Lucheng, but maybe find a better place to hide this so the animals can’t get a hold of it. Just saying.”

Harold glances down at the bottle. Small bite marks could be seen near the top of the cap. “N-noted.”

“Hey, does that mean Harold will be the first man to have sex on the moon?” Yoshida asks.

“That’d be some world record,” Nevsky remarks. “Dr. Harold Winston, astrobiologist, zoologist. First man ever to have butt sex on the moon.”

“Doesn’t that mean Dr. de Kuiper also gets a world record?”

“They’ll both share a world record then. I mean, one of them has to perform it, and the other has to receive, right?” Nevsky turns to Harold and smirks. “No offense, Harold, but out of the two of you, you strike me as the bottom.”

“This is the part of the conversation where I go away and find Siebren and never talk to you guys again,” Harold cringes.

“Let me know how it goes,” Nevsky yells as Harold leaves the dining area. “Guinness will probably want all the details for your new world record.”

Harold checks Siebren’s lab, half expecting him to be distracted with his work, but he’s nowhere to be found. His lab is clean and well-kept, almost like he hasn’t been in it at all. To say it’s strange is an understatement. Siebren practically lives and breathes in his lab. He’s probably spent more time in this lab than he’s spent in his own bedroom, or any other part of the lunar base. Something must be wrong, Harold realizes. He’s got one other place to check.

Harold finds himself outside of Siebren’s private room, waiting by the door. He’s done his best to avoid even looking at Siebren’s door. After yesterday, it’s going to be so awkward. And it’s mostly his fault for making it awkward, he knows that, but one look at Siebren nowadays and his fantasies run wild. It’s easy to imagine Siebren’s large hands pinning him to the wall, his thrusts powerful and hard, a smug smirk drifting on top of his crimson face as he leaves Harold a shuddering mess.

He shakes his head, ignoring the heat rising up his cheeks. He doesn’t need this. Quick in and quick out. Tell Siebren he's missed dinner. Let him figure out why Harold’s frustrated in his own time.

Harold lets out a breath and presses his palm to the hand scanner. The door slides open.

As he suspects, Siebren is in his room, sitting at his desk. His back is facing Harold, hunched over and slumped as he gazes at the papers strewn across the hard surface. He’s got headphones on but the wires have since frayed slightly, some of the sound leaking. It’s faint, but Harold can just make out voices talking over a jazzy tune. A podcast, he thinks.

“Come on, Siebren, you spent all day in here?” Harold tuts silently. Siebren hasn’t noticed him at all. He’s too distracted with his podcast. A small smirk spreads across Harold’s face as an idea forms in his head. 

He tiptoes forward, his steps as quiet as possible, ready to sneak up and surprise Siebren. A part of him tells him it’s petty revenge. The other part of him tells him it’s a way to alleviate some of his frustrations. The reason doesn’t matter. Before he can surprise Siebren proper, a loud shudder escapes his lips. The noise is lewd, desperate, a far cry from the strict properness of Siebren’s speech. It’s enough to make Harold stop in his tracks.

He's close enough to hear the words filtering from Siebren’s headphones. Two men are talking to each other in low, seductive tones. One has a deep yet weak voice. The other sounds a lot like Harold himself, only far more assertive and much more aroused. 

_“You’ll do as I say,” _The Harold voice-alike breathes. There's heat and possessiveness in his tone.

_“Y-yes,_” the deep voiced man quivered.

“_Yes, what, exactly?”_

_“Y-yes, master.”_

_“Good. Now, stay still for me. Don’t move one little bit.”_

The noises that follow after are suggestive and revealing at the same time. There’s the loud noise of a zipper being pulled down, hushed moans and gasps, whispered compliments breathed in an erotic tone as the jazz gets louder, and then the wet noises of a man swallowing another’s cock.

Siebren lets his head fall onto his left arm, muffling his noises. Harold’s eyes trail down Siebren’s right arm, disappearing into his lap, moving up and down rhythmically. He should be mad, but a part of him is aroused by the sight of Siebren pleasuring himself to these voices, vulnerable and blushing.

Suddenly the door to Siebren’s room automatically closes with an audible swish. Siebren freezes in place, twisting his head slowly over his shoulder. His eyes are wide. His mouth is agape.

“S-siebren?” 

He stops the recording, takes the headphones off his ears and quickly swivels his chair around to face the desk. 

“Siebren,” Harold huffs.

He stomps his way forward and forcefully turns the chair to face him. Siebren averts his gaze, all of a sudden captivated with his empty bookshelf. His hands are folded over his crotch, his thick legs pressed together so tightly. Next to the pile of papers on Siebren’s desk is an empty plate, scraps of today’s breakfast coating the surface.

“Have you been in your room all day?” Harold admonishes.

Siebren scowls shamefully. “It…won’t calm down.”

“You…what?” Harold's eyebrows furrow.

“I-I don’t listen to this out of pleasure,” Siebren gestures at his headphones. “I just need to calm it down. Get on with my work. B-but my body does not heed my commands today.”

Harold gazes down to Siebren’s crotch and gulps. He can’t see anything with Siebren’s hands in the way, but he can see that his pants have been undone, pulled lower over his hips for easier access. Orange boxers peek over hip bones, slid down slightly to reveal a tuft of thick hair.

Harold takes a shaky breath in and out. He doesn’t know what to feel anymore. Laying naked on a bed doesn’t do anything for Siebren, but a few guys fucking on stereo do? But then one of those guys sounded an awful lot like him. He purses his lips and shakes the thought away. He’s got bigger problems. More immediate problems.

“How long has…_it_…not calmed down?” Harold asks slowly.

“P-probably just over an hour now.”

“Only an hour?”

“This is the fourth time today I’ve had this particular problem.” Siebren flushes. “It doesn’t stay away for long.”

“And why doesn’t it stay away?”

Siebren huffs, but he doesn’t reply. His crimson blush has reached down to his neck and hands. His jaw is clenched tight, his body squirms, a far cry from the confident and suave man that Harold knows. His dazed eyes give Harold the answer Siebren’s lips don’t speak. Harold wasn't the only one with the hyperactive imagination today, it seems.

Harold doesn’t stop looking at Siebren’s pants. He’s had fantasies like this. Siebren would be properly dressed, just unzipping his pants to unveil his thick cock peeking from his underwear. He would lead Harold down onto his knees, pulling his head forward into his CROTCH. Siebren will give him the simple but powerful command to “suck” and Harold would eagerly do as Siebren says, watching and waiting for Siebren’s cool façade to slowly break as he moans to the stars.

His throat feels so dry as he braces his hand on Siebren’s chair. He’s not sure what expression is on his face, but he knows it must be intense, because Siebren exhales noisily through his nostrils, the hot air caressing Harold’s cheek. He places his other hand over Siebren’s, their gazes connected.

“Let me help you.”

“N-no,” he whispers.

“Please,” Harold insists.

Siebren whines, but he puts up no resistance when Harold pushes his hands aside. He sucks in a breath as his cock springs upward, suddenly exposed to the cool air. Harold’s eyes are as big as balloons.

“Gosh,” he breathes, because really, what else can he say about a cock like this? Even considering Siebren’s height, it’s massive, bulging blood vessels lining up from the base of his cock all the way up to the red, glistening head. It’s almost straight, with a slight lean to the left, the length so long that if Siebren was shirtless, Harold thinks it goes past his bellybutton. It leaks eagerly, precum covering the surface in a wet sheen. 

It’s not what Harold expects Siebren’s dick to look like. It’s so much bigger than he expected. It’s so much better than anything his brain could’ve conjured.

Before Harold can stop himself, his hand wraps around Siebren’s shaft. 

“H-Harold,” Siebren hisses.

“You’re thick too.” His hand strokes upwards slowly, all the way up to the head. He never thought Siebren would react like this, a fist over his mouth, gaze averted, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. It’s a side of him Harold’s never seen before. The Siebren he knows is prim and proper, a haughty gentleman with a strict routine and stricter standards. It’s nothing like this Siebren, beautiful and blushing and vulnerable.

He wants more. He wants to see more.

Harold gets down on his knees and leans forward, inhaling deeply. The scent of Siebren’s dick is heavy and musky and a bit overwhelming but it’s Siebren’s scent, and that’s all that matters. He strokes just a bit faster, the pressure on his fingers just a bit harder. Siebren quivers from his touch, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He’s finally staring at him with those mesmerizing blue eyes, cloudy with desire. It's such an undeniably erotic expression, and Harold's the one to bring it to the surface. 

“I-I don’t have any lube,” Siebren whimpers.

“I’ve smuggled some.”

“You, Dr. Harold Winston, smuggled lube onto a lunar base?” Siebren almost sounds impressed.

Harold smirks. “I’m prepared.”

Siebren splutters as he turns his head away. “W-well, I don’t have condoms.”

“We don’t need them.”

Siebren’s lips dip. He’s trying and failing to find another excuse, another reason to stop this. Siebren can’t say he doesn’t want this, because they both know he does. He leans back into his chair, legs spread to accommodate Harold, fists clenched at his side as Harold jerks him faster.

“Y-you don’t want this. Don’t want me,” Siebren says in a hoarse whisper. He moans softly as Harold’s other hand begin to caress his balls. “I-I’m too big. I would only hurt you.”

“Is that why you refused me earlier? Because you think I’ll break up with you because your dick is humongous?” Harold says incredulously.

Siebren blushes furiously. “When you put it like that…”

Harold can’t help but laugh quietly, if only to ease the tension building on Siebren’s shoulders. “Siebren, I’m already on my knees for you. And I’m old.” He licks a long, slow stripe up Siebren’s cock. “I don’t mind taking it as slow as we need to.”

His lips wrap eagerly around Siebren’s head. Above him, Siebren groans loudly. One hand plucks the glasses off his face and deposits them on the desk behind him. The other is on his head, fingers curling into his short brown locks. Siebren doesn’t pull or tug. His touch is soft and delicate, like he’s handling a porcelain doll that will break at any moment.

“Do you want this?” Harold whispers, nuzzling into Siebren’s groin. The pubic hairs tickle his nose. It takes all his effort to suppress a chuckle. “I’ll stop if you want me to. Won’t ever ask for sex if you don’t want it.”

“I…” Siebren finally turns his gaze down to Harold. His smile is small, shy, and utterly gorgeous. His hand sweeps down Harold’s skull. “I do want this, my love, just…slow, please.”

Harold smiles. He presses a soft kiss to the underside of Siebren’s cock. “I can do slow.”

Siebren shivers. “It didn’t seem like it earlier. You all but forced yourself on me.”

“Well, OK, maybe I wasn’t slow earlier, but I’ll go slow from now on.” _I think I’ll need to with this monster, _Harold thinks to himself.

“G-good.”

Harold feels the hand on the back of his head pull him forward. His lips are once more on the tip of Siebren’s dick, sucking lightly, making sure not to graze his teeth too harshly. The taste on his tongue is powerful, and not entirely pleasant, but Siebren’s groaning softly now, his hand ruffling Harold’s hair while the other one slides up his shirt, massaging slow circles over his nipple, and it’s all worth it.

When he thinks his jaw is relaxed enough, Harold presses further until he can feel Siebren’s dick on the back of his throat. Siebren moans, the vibrations running down to Harold’s open mouth, making him shudder. His pants feel so tight and his body feels so hot, but he’s got a job to do. He bops his head up and down slowly, settling on a controlled pace, dragging his tongue along every square inch of flesh it can reach.

“Good,” Siebren sighs. “V-very good.” There are other Dutch words mixed in as well that Harold doesn’t understand—synonyms for “good”, he guesses. He moans in response, and makes the mistake of gazing up into Siebren’s cool blue eyes. The look he gives Harold is heated and intense, like he plucked the stars out of the sky and placed them beneath his irises. It's so erotic. It's so unfair.

Harold feels himself getting hard with every second. The pressure is just too much. He palms himself slowly in full view of Siebren, a reasonably difficult job with a dick in his mouth but achievable. He groans lowly, uncoiling with the friction.

“Harold,” Siebren gasps. He’s close, and it’s obvious from the way he squirms with every little flick of Harold’s tongue. His hand is firm on Harold’s head now, holding it in place. “P-Please tell me you also smuggled condoms.”

Harold’s lips leave Siebren’s dick with a pop, a trail of saliva and precum hanging off his chin. “I-I do.” His gaze drops. “A-at least, I think I do. Why?”

“I don’t want our first time to end like this.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want…” Siebren trails off, his eyes sliding down Harold’s chest, resting at his hips. His eyes are cloudy. “I don’t know. Just as long as it’s you.”

“So you do want me?”

“Of course I do,” he breathes seductively.

Harold suppresses a gasp. There’s butterflies in his chest, flying in every direction, making him feel warm and fuzzy. His hand goes up to Siebren’s knee, rubbing slow circles. “I want you too. Preferably before the condoms expire.”

Siebren’s lips purse, his head suddenly lowers, and then he laughs, dispelling the tension in the air. Harold tries to pout, but it’s difficult not to smile when Siebren’s laughing so childishly like this, mouth wide and open, eyes scrunched in happiness. This is the Siebren he knows. This is the Siebren he loves.

Siebren pulls Harold up slowly so they’re both standing on their own two feet. His hand lowers down to Harold’s chin, caressing his jaw softly before kissing him passionately. It’s unlike any of their previous kisses. It’s warm and passionate, open-mouthed and wanting. His tongue spars with Harold’s eagerly, drawing out as many sounds as it can. The moans that leaves Harold’s throat are obscene, lewd.

“S-Sieb?” Harold breathes when their mouths drift away.

Siebren swipes his thumb over Harold's chin and brings it up to his tongue, licking slowly. He smacks his lips loudly, his face scrunched up. “Is that what I taste like?”

“You don’t know what you taste like?”

“You do?”

“Well, one of us is the weird one here,” Harold raises his eyebrows.

“I’m going to say it’s you, my love,” Siebren smirks.

“You’re the one who kissed me, knowing exactly where my mouth’s been.” Harold’s hand traces down Siebren’s shirt as he presses a kiss to Siebren’s neck. Electricity fizzles warmly on his lips, traveling down his spine. “Perhaps we should take this back to my room then?”

“I suppose we shall,” Siebren glances down at his still-hard dick and frowns. “Although perhaps I might need to take care of this.”

“Your jacket’s big enough to hide it.” He takes Siebren’s hand in his and leads him out of the room before Siebren can argue otherwise, giggling at the surprised yelp that spills out of Siebren’s mouth.

It’s a quick trip to Harold’s bedroom next door to get the condoms. Turns out the lube bottle wasn’t the only victim from Hammond’s ‘attack’. As he opens his bedside drawer, he notices that his box of condoms is also lightly chewed at the edge, though a quick inspection inside prove that the condoms within are unaffected. He breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't want to give Siebren an excuse to stop this. 

“Found them?” Siebren asks teasingly. He’s sitting down at the foot of Harold’s bed, smirking lightly as he rests backwards on his elbows. Harold laughs as he crosses the threshold to the bed and sits in Siebren’s lap. He’s pulled into a crushing kiss, full of teeth and tongue, textures and tastes and wonderful sounds. A hand reaches over his shoulder, pulling his lab coat down to his elbows.

God, they’re really going to do this. Siebren is going to strip his clothes off and pin him down to the bed and make love with him. Siebren actually wants him. This is really happening.

“Sieb,” Harold gasps. He barely has the necessary brain power to get the box of condoms and lube out of his coat pockets and place them on the bed. The rest of his thoughts are all on Siebren’s touch, Siebren’s love, Siebren’s everything.

“Let me do this,” he whispers. “It’s the least I can do.”

In a flurry of hand motions, Harold’s coat is gone. His turtleneck is next, Siebren guiding Harold’s arms up, pulling the fabric up and over his head. Siebren pauses for a second to admire his chest before his tongue latches onto Harold’s neck, sucking lightly. A shudder escapes Harold’s throat. Fingers move lower, fumbling at his zipper. Pants are slid down, and then underwear, thrown off in some direction behind his back.

Harold feels the sharp inhale on his neck, and then a nervous chuckle. Siebren palms his half-hard dick, rubbing softly. “Just as I thought. You are beautiful,” Siebren utters.

Harold blushes self-consciously. “So you have thought of me like this?”

“I have,” Siebren quietly admits. “Thought of you—thought of the both of us—in many different situations.” He smiles. “Not all of them were _entirely_ innocent.”

Harold sweeps his hand over the stretch of belly peeking out from under Siebren’s shirt. His mind is swimming. Now that he knows Siebren feels the same way, the possibilities feel endless. “What are you thinking now?” Harold whispers.

“That I want you. That I want to please you.” Siebren kisses Harold's collarbone. “That I love you dearly.”

“So sappy,” Harold giggles as he pulls Siebren close for another kiss. “I love you too.”

Harold doesn’t have near the same amount of patience when it came to stripping Siebren, taking the pieces off one at a time and throwing them over his shoulder. He only gets a moment to admire Siebren’s broad, hairy chest and strong muscles and flushed cheeks. Siebren pulls him in and reverses their positions, Harold's back pressed to the mattress. Kisses and licks are exchanged eagerly. True to Siebren’s request, they’re passionate but slow, patient and wet and warm. Everything Harold wants and more.

Harold hears the sound of the lube bottle popping open before he sees it. It squelches deliciously as it oozes down Siebren’s fingers, covering them in a glistening sheen. Siebren's smile is soft yet shy.

“I must warn you, it’s been a long while since I’ve done this,” Siebren says.

“No offense, but I’d be surprised if it hasn’t been a long time for you, Sieb.”

Siebren just smirks as he spreads the lube over Harold’s puckered asshole. Harold hisses lowly. “That certainly keeps you quiet,” Siebren laughs.

Harold has a retort, but words don’t make much sense when he's got a finger in his ass, slowly working itself in and out. There’s the squelch of more lube, and suddenly there’s another finger, scissoring with the other, grazing over his prostate.

“E-easy, tiger,” Harold sighs.

“Be patient. I need to prepare you thoroughly.”

“_Xīn g__ā__n_, I think I’ll be finished by the time I’m prepared, at this rate.”

“Patience, _mijn schatje,_” Siebren insists.

There’s a third finger, and then a fourth, moving slowly, careful not to stimulate him too much and push him off the cliff. For a moment Harold thinks that maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew. He already feels so full with four fingers, but Siebren’s cock is much thicker than that. It’s hard to relax when there’s a hand on his belly, pressing lightly into his pudgy flesh, distracting him.

But eventually those fingers slide out of him, and Harold groans loudly, feeling empty all of a sudden. There’s the slick slide of more lube down Siebren’s cock, and then the crinkle of the condom wrapper being torn. Harold watches with hooded eyes as Siebren puts the condom on slowly.

Harold smiles. “Ever been told you put on a condom sexily?”

“No,” Siebren blinks. “There’s a non-sexy way to do it?”

Harold chuckles. “Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

“I’d rather you not,” Siebren responds wryly. He squeezes Harold’s hips lightly. “Turn around for me.”

Harold gives a knowing smirk, but does as Siebren says. He’s flat on his stomach, his arms folded over the pillow. Siebren’s hand glides down from his ass to his thighs, tapping at them rhythmically. Harold slowly slides his legs wider until Siebren taps him to stop. Siebren hums indulgently, leaning down to kiss constellations on Harold’s back.

His cock rocks into the crack of Harold’s ass, slow and steady, a dizzying friction. Strangled noises escape Harold's throat. He's so sensitive all of a sudden, hyperaware of every little touch and sound. He's no longer aware of the four walls that surround his bedroom or the volume of his moans. The only thing in his universe is Siebren.

"Tell me when you're ready," Siebren whispers.

"G-gosh, Sieb," he pants. 

"You haven't answered me."

"Sieb, I've been ready for weeks, please, don't make me wait any longer."

There's another slow kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder. The lips pressed on his skin curl up into a smirk. "If you say so," he hums.

The tip presses against Harold's entrance before penetrating and he groans obscenely, grabbing a fistful of the pillow. Siebren’s hands are on his hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, urging him to relax. It stings, and it definitely burns despite the liberal amounts of lube they’ve used, but the slide is good. Real good. Siebren's pace is measured and tempered, his arms surrounding Harold from both sides, hips rocking melodically. Harold almost wishes he could turn around just so he could see Siebren’s flushed face prickled with beads of sweat. It’d be beautiful, vulnerable. Absolutely breathtaking.

“You want this,” Siebren pants. It’s a statement, not a question, but it begs for an answer regardless.

“Y-yeah,” Harold manages. “For a while now.”

“Have you imagined this?”

Harold opens his mouth to respond but then Siebren thrusts at just the right angle and the stars begin to flicker behind his eyes. “Right there, r-right…yes, there.”

Siebren’s breath hitches, his hips momentarily losing their rhythm. “D-don’t stop talking,” he pleads.

Harold shouldn’t be completely surprised that his talking is turning Siebren on—he did just catch him moments ago getting off to some erotica podcast. But the fact that his voice alone can make Siebren lose his composure so easily sends a dark thrill up his spine.

“Imagined you…coming into my room once,” Harold admits. Siebren groans lewdly, making Harold chuckle lightly. “You’d tell me how much you wanted me, that you had to have me, and you’d lose all control. Rip my clothes off and order me around. Make me yours.”

"M-more," Siebren breathes.

"You'd order me to stay on all fours while you take me from behind. You'd be so brutal on me, but it would feel so good. You wouldn't hold back whatsoever. I'd be at your utter mercy and I would love every second of it."

Siebren does something in between a pant and a huff of laughter as he buries his nose into Harold’s shoulder. His chest is pressed into Harold’s back. Gravity pulls their bodies so close, leaving no square inch of their skin untouched. “I-I don’t think I’m the kind to order you around like that.” His pace is getting faster. His thrusts are pushing deeper. “D-don’t think I can last much longer either.”

It’s only then that Harold becomes aware of heat and density pooling in his groin, not unlike the death of a supergiant star. There’s no longer any semblance of tempo to Siebren’s hips, thrusting wildly one second, and then achingly slow the next. Siebren’s moaning now, the hot breath tickling the tip of his ears. He’s whispering of comet tails and the infinite realms of space, sweet nothings that mean nothing except for the two of them. The arms surrounding his figure are shaking, shaking fists gripping tightly onto the covers.

Harold’s hand reaches for Siebren’s, wrapping his fingers over and squeezing. At once, the arms stop shaking. Siebren exhales loudly, curling forward, thrusting harder. _“M-Mijn Schatje, _please.”

“Hold it together,” Harold pleads. “Just a bit longer. Want you inside. Want you inside me, Sieb.”

“Harold,” Siebren gasps.

“I’m so close. One more moment.”

He feels one of the arms move around him, and a hand turns his face to the side. Before he realises what's happening, Siebren’s mouth crashes into his, tongue flicking eagerly, hips gliding fluidly, pressing constantly at his prostate and it’s so much pleasure, almost too much pleasure. Within seconds, Harold’s muscles tense as a loud, long moan leaves his lips, swallowed by Siebren’s tongue. The supernova explodes in his veins, searing him with light from the inside, turning him into a shuddery mess.

Siebren groans loudly and soon he too is lost to the world, cumming soon after. He collapses on Harold’s back, pressing tightly, shivering violently. Harold closes his eyes, losing himself to the waves. The stars before him give way to nebulas, then galaxies, then the universe, and it’s beautiful and perfect.

It’s many minutes later after the supernova has faded that Harold feels Siebren shift above him, lifting himself off and up before collapsing by Harold’s side. He’s breathing heavily, cheeks and body flushed, tired but sated. He looks absolutely gorgeous like this, Harold thinks. He wouldn’t mind seeing Siebren like this a little bit more.

It’s a long while before Siebren realizes Harold is staring at him. His eyes droop down from Harold's face to his hand. Slowly, he reaches out for them, intertwining his fingers, squeezing gently.

“You did not regret this, did you?” Siebren asks quietly.

“Maybe tomorrow morning I will,” Harold teases, rubbing his backside for emphasis. Siebren just raises his eyebrows incredulously. Harold chuckles. “I’m kidding. No, I do not regret this.” Quieter, he adds, “You did wonderful.”

Siebren releases a breath. “Good,” he smiles before clearing his throat loudly. “You did…you did fine as well.”

“Just fine?” Harold laughs.

“OK, you did more than fine,” Siebren rolled his eyes, smiling softly. He nuzzles closer into Harold. “You were also wonderful.”

Harold smiles softly. Siebren’s compliments never fail to ignite the sparks in his chest. It's not enough for him to ask for another round, but it's enough to make him feel warm and blissful in the afterglow.

“Does that mean you want me?”

An embarrassed blush caresses his face as he pouts. "C-could you clarify?"

"We both know what I mean. The next step. You know..." he gestures at the empty space between their naked bodies. "This."

"I do," Siebren whispers. Suddenly, as if just catching himself, averts his gaze. He bites his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. "S-sorry. About earlier, about me avoiding you. The last few times I got to this stage of a relationship I've..._intimidated _people with my size. I thought you would be the same. Clearly, I underestimated you."

"Clearly," Harold laughs. He snuggles closer into Siebren, lying his head under his chin. "So you don't mind if we do this from now on?"

"Do what, exactly?" His grin betrays the otherwise innocent tone in his question.

"Sex. Making love." Harold smirks. "Fucking."

"So crude," Siebren teases. He laughs softly as he envelopes Harold in his arms, pressing another slow kiss to his forehead. "Yes. I am ready. Although maybe not for the last one."

Harold smiles softly as he curls into Siebren's arms. There are so many things on his mind. He wants to know what Siebren likes and doesn't like during sex, if he has any kinks of his own, if perhaps they've got mutual fantasies that they want to try some time in the future. He wants to talk about it now so they are better prepared for next time, because he's sure next time will be even more spectacular than tonight, but Siebren is drifting away in his arms, already lulling off to sleep. 

Harold smiles sleepily to himself as he stares at Siebren's sleeping form, brushing his hand over Siebren's warm cheek. Perhaps he can have that discussion some other day. He doesn't need to rush it. They're old men, with experience and time under their belt. As long as time is linear and the future is unwritten, they can go as slow as they want.

* * *

It’s late when they finally make their way to the breakroom for breakfast the next morning. Harold was in a mad scramble to find his glasses, only to realise he left them in Siebren’s room. Siebren himself was having an ethical dilemma on the proper disposal of used condoms in space, before admitting defeat and chucking it in his room’s sole bin. And then there was Siebren dressing and undressing and then re-dressing, which cost a bit of precious time. But they’re reasonably presentable, in fresh clothes, and best of all, they don’t look freshly fucked when they finally arrive in the kitchen.

It’s too easy for them to fall into familiar habits. Harold makes his way for the kitchen counter to make himself a sandwich while Siebren presses his tea order into the machine. “Make me a coffee,” he sleepily asks.

“Sure,” Siebren gruffly responds, tapping in Harold’s order. He's already memorised it long ago. The flat white is finished just as Harold plates up his PB&J sandwich. Siebren has already placed the drink near Harold’s usual seat, sipping his tea quietly in his own chair right beside Harold's.

Harold makes himself comfortable, sitting down and opening up the tablet he brought with himself and doing his daily sweep at the lunar colony’s integrity and the gorillas’ vitals. He bites into his sandwich, only aware in that moment of two eyes watching him. Siebren smiles softly at him, a knowing glint in his eyes. Harold can't stop the smile from spreading on his face as he takes a sip of coffee.

He barely glances up in time to see Yoshida and Nevsky approach them, smiling slyly. There’s the pop of a party popper, then the toot of a party pipe, performed by Yoshida and Nevsky respectively. Siebren jumps in his seat.

“Congratulations on your world record,” Yoshida laughs.

Siebren’s brows furrow in confusion. “What world record?”

“Oh no,” Harold murmurs.

From behind his back, Nevsky brings out two official looking documents. They’re both identical copies of the Guiness World Record certificate, with the original text whited out crudely, new text photoshopped on top. Nevsky hands one to Siebren, before sliding the other one to Harold.

On Harold’s certificate it reads ‘_The world’s first butt sex on the moon was performed by Dr. Harold Winston (USA/China) and Dr. Siebren de Kuiper (The Netherlands) on Horizon One Lunar Colony.’ _

From the way Siebren’s face paled, Harold assumed his certificate read the same thing.

Yoshida and Nevsky are cackling like hyenas, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Harold’s only saving grace is that none of the other scientists are here, though by the amplitude of the laughter, the others might be attracted to the noise sooner or later.

“O-oh god, they really did it. Look at how they’re blushing. Look,” Yoshida heaves.

“Who’s the bottom?” Nevsky asks.

“Probably Harold. Look at how he’s sitting.”

Harold winces, not necessarily because his ass is a little bit battered from last night, but because his dirty laundry has practically been aired out for all to see. 

“You two,” Siebren growls.

“Oh my god, I have to tell Zhang and Flores,” Nevsky giggles. 

“You have to tell us all the details,” Yoshida says to Harold and Siebren. “I mean, someone’s gotta tell Guinness about this world achievement.” Yoshida and Nevsky continue to laugh.

Siebren stands up slowly, glares at the two, and then picks up both certificates in his hands and rips them into shreds. Their laughter quickly dies.

Harold stands up with a carefully neutral expression. He gobbles his sandwich up and drinks the coffee in one go, wiping his lips of the excess.

“If anybody needs me, I’m going to throw myself out of airlock E-35," Harold emotionlessly.

Siebren takes a few seconds to glare evilly at Yoshida and Nevsky before turning to Harold. "I'll join you."

**Author's Note:**

> _ I refuse to write smut seriously, ever, in my life. Why have sexy stuff when you can have random comedy? XD _


End file.
